


Retrouvaille

by dreaming_dreaming_dreaming



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Will Graham, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Finale, Revelations, Romance, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-10 16:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6963499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaming_dreaming_dreaming/pseuds/dreaming_dreaming_dreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will always knew there was something odd and off about Hannibal Lecter - his demeanor was the epitome of class, his palate was refined and his words were spoken in an eloquent manner. All these traits Will has always assumed were extensive pretenses to delude the rest of the world.</p><p>Long ago, Will had thought Hannibal as a monster, then he accepted him as a human after seeing himself in Hannibal. Now he has to reconsider if <i> all </i>  of Hannibal really is really human.</p><p>And if not, he must consider whether or not all of him is human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will woke up at the seashore.

Hannibal woke up at the seashore with his face laid flat on the sand.

A wave of seawater crashed on him and finally the pain registered all at once. His kind still feels pain, after all. The untended wound on his stomach bit him at every move he took. While his ongoing bleeding has reduced tremendously, and he nevertheless remained lightheaded, a symptom that was definitely a by-product from the blood loss, and the impact from falling from the cliff. He would feel better after feasting on human meat. Same goes to his Will.

He forced himself up into a sitting position and faced the Atlantic sea, where an empty boat was approaching. Hannibal broke into a victorious smile.

Jack Crawford won’t find them easily.

The sun has risen, and the tide was low. The waves were rolling back further and further to the sea, exposing small and large rocks that they were lucky enough to avoid, scattered randomly all over the shore. He inhaled the fresh, salty air, and enjoyed the mundane yet pleasurable experience that was denied to him during his time in incarceration.

In his mind, time began to reverse.

Prior to the fall, fresh from the slaughter of The Great Red Dragon, Will was holding Hannibal weakly, his fingers slipped numerous times from exhaustion. Hannibal, after expanding such energy, never felt more alive than he was at that time, all his senses suddenly becoming more sensitive to his surroundings. He could taste the salt in the air and the faint sweetness flowing from his Will.

Will’s eyes lingered temporarily on Hannibal’s lips and his heart pounded at the thought of tasting Will with both of their lips still wet with blood but Will just gently rested his head on Hannibal’s chest.

It was unspoken but clear: his Will has finally succumbed to what has become of him. When they killed the Dragon, Will finally sees it, what Hannibal had intended for him to see all along. This time his judgement was unclouded as the night itself. He chose not to fight what he saw. Hannibal embraced Will back, tighter than Will's embrace, a gesture that was as intimate as the act of taking the Dragon's life.

There was a silence, and in that silence, there was peace. Hannibal closed his eyes, letting his sense of smell and touch to reach a new height, and - like Will - chose not to fight when he sensed Will pushing the both of them off the cliff, gently and gracefully, into the sea.

His Will held him all the way down.

***

Even with the sun, everything was brighter but not fully lit. They both were swept to the other side of the shore, almost directly opposite of the cliff, where there were no signs of any bureau agents present. There was no need to rush.

“Hannibal,” an alarmed yet tired voice came, “We need to leave. I reckon the boat is your doing.”

Hannibal nodded. Hannibal hung Will's arms around his shoulders before they walked together wordlessly to the sea. When the sea level reached their chest, they swum.

The boat halted when the land became too shallow. Hannibal and Will slumped into it, panting and sweating. As soon as they boarded the boat, it departed to the sea.

Will looks around. There was nobody, not even Chiyoh.

“The passports are in the bedroom, with expenses, food, and water enough for three months. The spare clothes are in the closet," Hannibal said as he worked on his wounds quickly, swallowing the painkillers before taking out a scalpel and a threaded needle from the kit, and began removing the bullet.

He felt uncharacteristically irritated. Where is human meat when he needed it the most? Will gulped down a whole bottle of water. Swallowing the seawater dried up his throat and the water provided him a much-needed relief, although his cheeks burned. Will nearly chocked on his water. He had not paid attention to that area. Slowly, he moved his hand to his face, feeling the jagged surface, the sting and humiliation.

He closed his eyes in reluctant resignation.

The process of tending his own wound took Hannibal nearly half an hour to complete, an astonishing short time given that it was done to a terrible extend. During this period, Will refused Hannibal’s blunt advances to come closer to him. He sat hunched on the edge of the bed and kept his back faced Hannibal.

“Let me tend your wound,” Hannibal pondered to use the word ‘face’ in the place of ‘wound’ but decided against it. Will pretended to have not heard that. Hannibal decided to give him another push.

“Will, allow me see your face. The cut has been done but not the damage – if I don’t tend it soon, it will be infected.”

What was Will to say in this situation? That he doesn't want Hannibal to look at him in disgust at his disfigured face? Will wanted to laugh at himself. Almost a decade of games, and his ugly face is the decisive thing that was going to split them apart.

Hannibal moved closer to Will, his voice dropped to a whisper “You are still bleeding. Let me help you.”

This time, Will remained seated.

“Your scar will remind you of the Red Dragon. Remind you of what has transpired at the cliff. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and it is definitely not ugly,” Hannibal rested his hand on Will’s shoulders.

“I know where the cut is and I saw what it looks like,” Hannibal spoke, “It is on your right cheek; begins near your ear, bypassing your jaw, almost reaching the base of your neck and nearly cutting a vital blood vessel. It is long, and deep, so compulsive and full of the Red Dragon’s anger.

When the wound heals, it will leave behind a scar, as a gift, and it will be beautiful.”

Will lifted his head slowly, and turned to meet Hannibal, who began caressing Will’s face. Hannibal’s irises turned red for a split second before reverting back to black. Will felt a hot, tingling sensation on his face, the slit on his face has ceased to bleed and his skin pulled itself together –all of it happened within seconds and he was whole again.

Hannibal looked away from Will's scar to his eyes and whispered “You are beautiful, Will.”

***

When Hannibal gutted Will in the kitchen almost 4 years ago, Hannibal said he let Will know and see him. It was true, Hannibal did bared everything all for him, but Will had not seen everything until now.

When they killed Dolarhyde together, what Will felt was order. It was his - no, their rightful places, in the hierarchy. This was where they were meant to be.

But when Hannibal said he is beautiful, something that was asleep for centuries has awakened in Will and he is completely re-birthed with hunger and desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 03/06/2018: Some minor changes.


	2. Breadcrumbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and the rest of the FBI arrives at the scene.

It took them almost a day to find where the final fight took place.

If they had something like Will Graham in their unit, they would have found it in hours. Hell, they might have even found it before the battle took place. Dolarhyde would be captured alive, questioned and faced justice accordingly. Hannibal would be apprehended. And Will would... no, no, it won't be that simple.

Jack is missing something and even he could sense that in his sleep deprivation. From far, he could hear the rest of the unit thanking Brian and Jimmy, rewarding them with pats at the back and promises of coffee for their success in finding this place. Had they not managed to accomplish the impossible, Jack would have made all of them continue working for over 24 hours.

Will, Hannibal, and Dolarhyde had not been kind enough to leave breadcrumbs for the FBI to follow. It was Brian and Jimmy who took all the available puzzles pieces, some were hidden years long, that can only be known by those who had worked with both Graham and Lecter. They put the pieces together, and add pieces of their own to it. The puzzle was still incomplete. It took several trials and errors - and continuous pressure from Jack - but it worked at the end. But even now, there are missing pieces.

He turned to see the house in its whole. The stunning house by the cliff is now a slaughterhouse.

He started from the inside. Wine glass shattered in the kitchen, bullet shells scattered everywhere. Wine and blood stains the floors and walls of the home, two different shades of red that are so similar yet contrast deeply with one another. And.. there was something else... something strong and spicy intertwined with something slightly sweet. Wine? Were they cooking when they first started to fight? 

All these breadcrumbs led Jack to by the cliff where Dolarhyde lies lifelessly, leaving only a video recorder as the sole witness.

Dolarhyde smelt rotten. All dead bodies smell rotten generally, but his was more so.

Carefully, he lifted it up. The tape _is_ still recording. He hit stop and rewind from the start, but paused.

_Was it against protocol?_

He thought silently. He need to see this. Now.

_The fuck if I care._

And hit play.

There they were. Hannibal and Will - grainy but somewhat obvious. The first shot was fired, the first glass shattered, and the first blood spilled. Hannibal was on the ground as Will stood by, sipping his wine. Dolarhyde came into view.

All three were calm but as Dolarhyde moved further from the video recorder, their voices became incredibly low.

They fought, resembling more to animals than human.

Hannibal was on Dolarhyde's back and his _teeth_ sunk into Dolarhyde's neck. The scream from Dolarhyde was loud enough for Jack to hear, but it came to an abrupt halt when Will sliced through Dolarhyde. And just like that, he was dead. But the tape kept playing.

Instantly, Jack knew he was witnessing the final puzzles.

He put the recorder closer to his face, and squinted at it, trying to absorb everything.

_Did he saw Hannibal's lips moving? What did he said?_

_Will replied something, too._

_Silence._

_Will grabbed Hannibal's shoulders_

_..._

_Will hugged Hannibal._

_No, no... it was an embrace._

For a moment Jack couldn't breath, and when he finally could, Will had push them off the cliff.

Nothing will change from this point onward in this tape except the occasional clouds shielding the moon, and the slow advancement of Dolarhyde's blood leaving his body, and yet Jack kept looking for signs.

It was full stillness and white noises at different pitches. Dolarhyde's body was still lifeless and the night sky was ever the same. The moon remains where it was, mostly unclouded, and shone on everything, yet everything had changed.

***

Jack handed the recorder to other agents to observe. He played from the start and stop a few seconds after Will and Hannibal fell from the cliff.

All of the agents.

Every single one of them.

Told him things he already knew.

He wanted to find Brian and Jimmy but they were nowhere nearby. They found this house. Somehow. Miraculously. There must be something else they can find that he can't find in this damned tape.

"Where were you guys?" Jack questioned them, after they arrived shortly.

"Bathroom," Jimmy replied sheepishly.

Jack was once again at lost for words.

"But never mind that, is there anything you want?" Brian asked quickly.

"Tell me what you see," Jack said as he played the tape.

They both became quiet, watching the tape extensively. Jack observed their eyes and when their eyes will move wildly, Jack immediately look at the recorder. They gasped at the end.

"Ah..." Jimmy spoke as Will and Hannibal fell, "So, they're gone."

_Tell me something I don't know._

Jack was disappointed. They said the same thing everything else said.

"From the beginning, Will and Hannibal were ambushed by Dolarhyde. He was targeting Hannibal obviously, and Will was probably taking precautions not to anger Dolarhyd-"

"I know that."

"Then what do you want to know?"

"Tell me what happens after they fell."

They exchanged looks with each other.

"Jack, you can't possibly ask us as to where Will and Hannibal might have-"

"Yes, yes I can, and I already did. Now answer me."

Brian took a deep breath, and rewind the tape.

_Come on, come on, come on..._

When the tape ended, they both remains silent.

"Well?" Jack asked

"...nothing," Brian said.

"What did you said?"

"Nothing. We got nothing."

"You barely even look at Price. Discuss something."

Brian sighed, "we - we can't."

"What do you mean you-"

"We. CAN'T," Jimmy shouted.

Agents nearby turned to see the commotion.

"Listen, if the both of you can pull yourself up together for a few minutes, we might still be able to catch-"

Jimmy grunted, "They are both dead. Three of them if you count Dolarhyde."

"There are no bodies," Jack insisted.

"Look here," Jimmy hissed, "Do you know how much coffee I drank? How many times I shit in _the past 24 hours?_ Just to keep up with your unreasonable demands? Never once I argued so that you can have your way."

"If I had not done it, we wouldn't find any of these."

"You did nothing. It was Brian and I who found this place. You insistence had pushed everyone to their edges."

"My insistence had brought us to to this crime scene."

"Your insistence has made Will Graham commit suicide so that he can take down Hannibal the Cannibal with him."

And with that, silence filled the place. All the agents kept quiet, waiting.

"I'm going home," Jimmy said, "If I fell asleep as I drive and kill myself, that's on you, too."

Brian spoke when Jimmy was far enough.

"Forgive him boss. Everyone's dead tired."

"Are they really dead?"

"Dead tired," Brian grinned, but Jack remained cold.

Brian was speechless, "Have you seen what's underneath the cliff? Sir, with all due respect, no human can survive that fall... and I think I'm going home too"

"Who dismissed you?"

"I dismissed myself, sir," Brian replied coolly, "There's nothing left to be seen. And frankly, everyone just wants to go home. Look at them."

Jack looked around. Indeed, all his men were dead-eyed.

Brian joked, "Jimmy and I weren't the only one using the bathroom."

Jack thought briefly and he realized, he is, too, tired.

"Okay," he said, "Just gather all the evidences, and file them at the headquarters. Then we can go home."

Brian beamed at him.

"Tell me one thing, Zeller," Jack asked, "How on Earth did you two found out it was this place?"

"Had to think like Will," Brian sighed, "It was difficult but doable. Oh, no. We got it wrong because we tried to think like Will. We had to think of Will _and_ Hannibal. Somewhere special. Hannibal's office, Hannibal's home. Will's home. Florence-"

"Florence?"

"Yes, the chapel where, um, you know, origami heart. But it couldn't be that far. So we narrowed it down to America."

"Brian..."

"Yes, but bear with me. We ran through his older files. When he first escaped to Florence. We suspected him of owning several safe houses and have a list of them. So we sent several policemen to these places, starting with the ones closest to where they escaped. We had to trial and error a few times."

"Where will they go next then?"

Brian became disinterested, "Jack... they are dead."

"Not until we find their bodies."

"Good luck with that," Brian said as he handed back the recorder to Jack.

_What am I looking for? All the evidences are laid in front of me._

He re-winded the tape and paused again at where Hannibal spoke to Will.

_Not all._

He resumed the tape.

Will replied to Hannibal, then grabbed him by the shoulders, slowly guiding them both to the edge. Jack could not see Will's face hidden by Hannibal's chest, as though he was shy by the display of affection.

_Hannibal_

Jack shivered. He could swear on it, no matter how grainy the video was.

_Hannibal was in euphoria._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	3. Baits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Were these breadcrumbs or baits?
> 
> Death or survival?

In the headquarters late afternoon, Jack sat crossed legged alone on a leather chair in a windowless room. Enclosed with grey walls and grey tiles, he waited hours for the tape to be processed, tapping on the table and if he was no better than the man he was yesterday, he would have long lost his patience.

_Patience._

What does he want now from the tape? Answers to questions he doesn’t know? Clues leading a treasure chest in a sea deep shipwreck? Breadcrumbs to the witch’s confectionary cottage?

Jimmy’s voice echoed in his head.

Think like Will and Hannibal. Will and Hannibal.

Hannibal talked first with a million things that he could have said to Will.

A proposal to run away together. Will would agree or disagree. Jack laughed at himself silently immediately after thinking that. _Will would agree_. The three-way fight between a delusional serial killer, a formerly incarcerated cannibal and one of the best FBI agent he ever had was short-lived but intense. Bearing closer resemblance to animals than to human. Judging by how calm the latter two seem to be after the death of Dolarhyde, Jack came to a conclusion which left a bitter taste to his tongue: Will has made up his mind long ago. Jack couldn’t fathom clearly what Will had made up his mind on but it was no longer in the same set as Jack, much less aligned with his principles.

After Hobbs, Jack found an alive but shaken Will, who took some time off teaching and consulting before returning – on Jack’s insistence.

After Tier, Will had emerged calmer and gratefulness washed over Jack, being relieved of the burden to justify _again_ why Will was necessary in the Bureau had Will emerged more disturbed, leading to him blatantly ignoring Will’s alarmingly gradual relaxed reactions towards the inevitable killings.

Will was adjusting to it, taking serial killers’ lives. Jack knew it and allowed it to flourished. Were this his thoughts, or were this Hannibal’s words? At one point, neither Jack or Hannibal pushed Will anymore. Will was pushing himself. Steering himself alone in a familiar yet hostile environment. One wrong step and it’s your last breath. It was necessary, Jack used to argue with himself. Killing was necessary in this line of job.

What had Will felt at each killing as he grown accustomed to them?

Killing Hobbs to save Abigail. Killing Tier to save himself. Killing Dolarhyde to save Hannibal and himself.

How did killing Dolarhyde felt like to Will?

_Think like Will and Hannibal._

Jack began again. In his mind, the tape rewound itself again, and he stuffed in the gaps with fragments that don’t quite fit. Hannibal would not propose to Will to run away together. They are lightyears ahead from that. Running away was an unspoken unanimous decision that could have been decided during the wine drinking session minutes before Dolarhyde attacked, or when the cars that were carrying them was ambushed, or when they first met during Hannibal’s incarceration, or in Florence, or when they first met in Hannibal’s office. Jack was so behind.

Hannibal would have whisper a location, a temporary hideout, far away from the reach of the Bureau. Will would agree, then pushed them off the cliff, but why would he do that? Let the climax of the noir be caught by the recorder, and let it be conveniently found after the fall?

Were they leaving breadcrumbs for Jack to follow, or baits?

Jimmy and Brian entered the room with a female agent who was holding a USB drive. Jack nodded at them before they installed the drive into the computer and screened the recording using the projector.

The tape remained largely grainy, but brighter and sharper and finally the bloods on them that were once pitch black were no longer one with the night.

_See._

_This is all I ever wanted for you, Will._

_For both of us._

Jack heard heavy breaths beside him. Jimmy or Brian? Or both? It was too masculine to be the female agent and too far. What was it that Hannibal showed Will? He could not see what Hannibal had shown Will, but he understood Hannibal’s words were not simply words uttered for the sake of filling in the silence. The both of them were light-years away from traditional love confession.

The female agent spoke suddenly, "16 syllables... like a haiku."

A perfectly crafted haiku as the grand finale…

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_All of these,_

_Are just for you._

Jack allowed this to flourished.

Will’s lips moved momentarily.

Their hands are on each other, desperate and staggered at every move. Will embraced Hannibal, pushing him slowly, and Hannibal allowed him, he reveled in it. Had he known this was to come? That Will push them both to their fall? Hannibal was in ecstasy at the touch from the other man. Conscious or not? Hannibal’s eyes were closed, even when Will pushed them _off_ the edge. Had he accepted it? Death itself in the hands of Will Graham?

That was the last of it. The last breadcrumbs Will and Hannibal presented him. Nothing else.

“Could we decipher what Graham had said?”

“We couldn’t. A full visual of his lips are needed,” Brian replied.

“How about the CCTVs?”

“Not powered.”

Something felt off this time. Something felt too easy, too predictable.

Even the best killers have made mistakes that lead to their captures. But this doesn’t come across as a mistake. The ambush. The footage providing definite evidence of Dolarhyde’s murderers and just enough for Will’s and Hannibal’s missing bodies to be declared dead. A perfectly planned sequence with just the right number of missteps to con everyone that it was not prearranged.

Breadcrumbs or baits?

He rewound the tape a few times with indifference at Hannibal’s capacity to fight with a vigor that equaled Will’s, years after he was left physically unchallenged in a prison, and right after being shot at the stomach. Jack wasn’t even impressed. Years after investigating left a painful lesson for Jack: expect the unexpected, and even inhuman, with The Chesapeake Ripper.

Jack was bitter with a later lesson, too. It was a surrender. Not a capture. Kade Prurnell never let him forget that. Hannibal had always played what he wanted to. He decided that in the end.

After the kill, they were both panting irregularly. Hannibal was evidently calm, his panting stemmed from his exhaustion, not shock. But Will? More than half of him was hidden. What was he thinking? What had he said to Hannibal? Jack used to be able to predict Will so well. Now he wasn’t sure if he was looking at the same person.

He tried thinking the way he was taught in the academy, but he couldn’t string together any comprehensible explanations.

Breadcrumbs or baits?

***

Will sat silently for hours, trying to process what had occurred hours earlier. He softly touched his scar. It was still there. Was he drunk? He blew hot air from his mouth to his cupped hands and sniffed them. No. Perfectly sober. Encephalitis? He tensed at the thought but decided quickly it was not. He had no have fevers for months. He had not sleepwalked in years. Had his mind imagine things? Wounds don’t mend themselves by the touch of a man.

But this man is Hannibal Lecter, and now it is evident he wasn’t simply just a man.

Hannibal had excused himself to the deck after tending to Will, but not before offering him to join him, as he put, _if you wish to_.

With Will, Hannibal had always spoke in a polite manner, never directly expresses his wishes if he sensed Will may be disinclined to his offer but felt too guilty to say no, but right now, Will wasn’t disinclined by his offer, he just needed some time to gather himself together. He is more well put together than what he was hours ago, but not fully yet, and doubted that he could truly ever be properly put together unless this conversation takes place. Questions that needed answers, and the man with the answers was just outside.

And the _heat_. The heat was too empowering. Erupted from his lower abdomen when Hannibal called him beautiful and has not dissipate since. It wasn’t a fever. It was something wilder.

He doesn’t know what the proper question was to ask. The scar? The heat? The boat? Wings emerging from Dolarhyde moments before his death?

How many more hours does he need to pull himself? How many hours left before dawn approaches?

It was laughable. What was there to be afraid of? Is there something to be afraid of? If yes, so what?

Will stood up and walked to the deck where Hannibal awaited on a recliner with a drink in his hand. On his side, there was a small round table, with a bottle of wine basked in a bucket filled with ice, and an unused glass. Next to the table, there was an empty recliner.

“Will,” Hannibal began, “What a pleasure to see you.”

“Had you waited long?”

“The wait was worth it.”

Will sat quietly on the recliner and tried to relaxed himself as much as possible. The itching increased greatly and he scratched himself.

“I have questions.”

“I believe I have most of the answers. Where do you want to begin?” Hannibal poured the wine into the empty glass, inviting Will to take a seat, for a long conversation.

“I’m unsure if I’m beginning this from the start.”

“Where would you define the start?”

“Wherever you are.”

Hannibal smiled, “What do you want to know about me?”

If Will didn’t know what to ask before, he knows now.

“Are you human?”

***

Jack had arrived to two scenarios.

_Breadcrumbs._

The video was recorded by accident. Will and Hannibal were too focused on Dolarhyde to pay attention to the recorder, leaving an unintentional witness for their deaths.

_Baits._

They were aware of the presence of the recorder and decided to be recorded, faked their deaths, and survived.

He studied the picture of the cliff and the bluff below it. The height and the jagged rocks below.

_The expected or unexpected?_

It hit Jack like a truck. Once again, he felt stabbed the way he had in Hannibal’s residence that night. The lessons he had painstakingly learnt were no longer applicable. There is a wildcard now.

What defined the expected and unexpected now that Will Graham was in the equation? Jack had not captured Hannibal three years ago. Hannibal allowed Jack to capture him. A scenario made possible only by the interference of Will Graham. Hannibal will only die if Will Graham wants him to die.

***

“I’m as much human as you are, dear Will.”

“So not fully human.”

Hannibal remained stoic but somewhat pleased. The conversation ran more smoothly than he anticipated, and he loved pleasant surprises, “Does it troubles you?”

“Not as much as I thought it would,” a pause, “Why have you never said anything?”

“It was necessary, more to you than to me,” Hannibal had practiced this – numerous times even before the arriving at the house by the cliff, his incarceration, in Florence… he had only realized he was preparing for this day the same day he realized that he ached for Will Graham.

Hannibal continued, “Given our complicated history I thought it would be best for you to realize you have always have it in you. With or without me, you have always been you. Your awakening, or becoming, was entirely your own. I facilitated, but nothing else.”

“You could have just told.”

“I wasn’t aware at first at how similar we are… by the time I realized it, you knew I had manipulated you before. It was best if you are shown. If I had simply told you, it may appear I was trying to influence you again.”

Hannibal waited for a reply but sensed Will’s quiet anger at him and decided to continue, “Had I left you alone, you will never know who you truly are. Your essence is different than most people. You would have directed the wrong way and drive yourself crazy if you never know yourself.”

“So I would have to thank you for not letting me ending up like Francis,” Will’s reply sounded more to a question.

Hannibal loved being surprised, “He is our kind too.”

Will breathed, “I am still… upset, and confused.”

“I understand.”

“I saw… wings emerging from his back. I thought I was imagining something.”

“He awakened right before his death,” Hannibal mused, “All his life, he knew he was different than others, but was unsure of what he was, longed to be awakened, to be his true self, and he succeeded, just moments before his death. There were definitely wings you saw, Will, I saw them too. Others may not see it.”

“Are all the serial killers we crossed paths with were… different?”

“A lot of them have the same blood that gave them the bloodlust, but all of them were very faint, except the dragon.”

“What about me?”

Hannibal turned to look at Will with a strange sense of pride, “Strongest I have ever scented in my life. Stronger than the Dragon’s. Even stronger than me.”

“Does that make me less human than you?”

“It makes you much more… elevated.”

“Are we gods now?”

Hannibal found humor in it, “What may appear gods to some may appear monsters to others.”

“How long have you known yourself, Hannibal?”

“Ever since I was a child. On the other hand, I believe your identity is a recent discovery.”

Will gave a weak laughter, “Very recent.”

There was the silence again, but it was peaceful. Hannibal was kind enough allowing Will to ponder, to put himself together.

“Are there only the both of us?”

“I don’t believe we are as secluded as it seems. Plenty have not woken.”

“…the Great Red Dragon was one.”

“Yes.”

“Are there names for us?”

“There are limited resources,” Hannibal sipped his wine, “I am an Alpha, and you’re an… Omega.”

Will disliked that, “So, I’m the submissive one.”

Hannibal carefully crafted his words, “It doesn’t need to be so in every aspect of our relationship. I’m open to reversing our roles in a more intimate setting.”

Will paused, thinking of the setting he had not considered much before, but decided that it was a good thing, “Why did it took me so long to be awaken?”

“It has been asleep inside you for many, many years. Either one or both of your parents have it and were unaware. So, you grew up becoming unaware, too. I predicted that slaughtering The Great Red Dragon together may help you to awaken. Do you feel any differences, dear Will?”

Will could detect the slight excitement in Hannibal’s voice.

“I feel... stronger, more focused, and… what is this heat, Hannibal? What is it?” Will held his abdomen, massaging it slightly. It had become somewhat itchy, like there were ants marching on it.

 “I had not expected this to happen so soon, but it’s likely fueled by our compatibility _._ ”

They are both looking at each other as Hannibal continue, “There is a way to sate your needs, if you would allow me in the future.”

_In the future._

_Alpha and_ _Omega._

_Heat._

…

 _Oh. It wasn’t coming from his lower abdomen, it was coming from much_ lower _than that._

And there he was scratching himself like a dog in front of Hannibal.

The itch would just be ignored for now.

Will noted, “How did you awakened?”

Another pause.

Within a second Will knew the answer, “I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“Her… murder sparked an awakening inside of me. A realization that I was something stronger. In my older youth, it aided me in avenging her. I had to learn about myself first. Unlike Francis, I had someone,” Hannibal stared at the never-ending sea, “Poor Francis.”

“Poor Francis,” Will echoed.

“You had no one, too.”

Will laughed, “Are we resuming our session now, Dr. Lecter? In the middle of the sea? On the run? I couldn’t imagine anything more romantic.”

Hannibal smiled more today than what Will had seen the past few weeks. His smiles today were more sincere and serene. His human skin was long shed and thrown away, but the final burden was finally lifted today, and Hannibal is a free man.

“While the view is indeed magnificent, we don’t have to continue, but tell me one last thing, Will,” Hannibal straighten his back, “When you pushed us off the cliff, had you intended for us to escape or for us to fall to our deaths?”

***

_The expected or unexpected?_

Jack walked in circles. Will Graham is an uncontrolled variable in an experiment, in which Hannibal is willing to be experimented on. Jack assessed the uncertainties Hannibal had complied with. It was too unbalanced. There was more to lose than to gain.

Probability of meeting Will Graham in his incarceration? Low.

Probability of escaping a highly secured truck? Low.

Probability of evading the FBI for almost a day? Low.

Probability of surviving the fall? Low.

Death or survival?

In the end, it was up to Will Graham.

Hannibal will only die if Will Graham wants him to die.

***

The answer took a longer time to come out. Will never consciously thought of it. What was on his mind at that time? Death or survival?

“I knew – I don’t know how I knew – that we both were going to survive the fall. When we first scouted the area, I wasn’t sure, but after my awakening, I knew.”

These words meant the much more to Hannibal than what Will had intended for them to be. Hannibal relaxed slowly and reached out for Will’s left hand hesitatingly. He pulled Will’s hands closer and planted a soft kiss.

This was when the sun turned from pale yellow to warm orange as it merged together with its reflection on the sea. The splash of the seawater against the boat as it slowly advanced further was in harmony with their view. There were no clouds, no visible birds flying, or sea animals swimming. Just the both of them, and the sun itself.

“Please enjoy the view. The Atlantic sea is stunning at dawn,” Hannibal released Will’s hand, “I will prepare dinner.”

“Promise me you would spent dusk tomorrow with me.”

Hannibal smiled, “I planned to propose that to you over dinner.”

“We’ll think something else to talk about.”

That was true. There was plenty left to talk about and plenty of time to do so in the boat sailing stealthily in an empty sea. This was what Hannibal intended, Will believed. A quiet time for the both of them be both healed in every sense. To mend wounds, if there were any left. They have accepted that they can’t turn back time, fix past mistakes, or put teacups back together again and have embraced this knowledge together. They were light-years ahead of that. What remained uncertain is their future and whatever it may hold, but what remained certain was Florence was ahead, and Florence awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are!
> 
> I have thoughts of adding/replacing the tags. I'm pretty sure some of you realized that I actually created this work in 2016 and only updated the second chapter two days ago (oops). ~~The only comeback that can top mine is Hannibal returning for season 4.~~
> 
> There were a lot of changes from the original tags and I have removed the unnecessary ones.
> 
> Special shoutouts to:
> 
>  **Cheshire_Jinx on Chapter 2** for giving me the idea of a lip reader to find out what Hannibal had said to Will by the cliff. I imagine the recorder to capture the moments from our perspective. Like this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTARpr-Y0bg from 2:16) but further away. I actually can't remember where Francis placed the recorder and even if I can remember I'm not sure the direction. So this was something I had to assume.
> 
>  **DaringD on Chapter 2** for Kade Prurnell and Molly Graham idea. They have not arrived yet but there is a place reserved for them in this ~~table~~ story. ~~I think I am so funny~~
> 
> I am still writing the next chapter and as of now, things seems to be going towards Will's and Hannibal's time together. I was inspired to continue their conversation for dinner but this chapter is almost 3.2k worth of words and countless editing, so I had to stop, and I believe this was a perfect stop :D. All these similes and symbolism (or whatever these are) made me dizzy. 
> 
> A problem with me is I keep returning to older chapters and do slight modifications on them (just adding or modifying a few words), especially when I find some silly mistakes *sighs*. I have heard of Beta reader before but I'm not sure how the system goes since this is my only work and it would be my first time having one. And I'm not fully sure if I am in complete understanding of their roles in story writing. Anyone who can enlighten me? And how to find one?
> 
> By the way, any major or minor storylines (?) in the previous two chapters aren't changed, so the slight modifications I made has no impact to the story. I made changes to about 10 words in total ahahaha.
> 
> I swear to God I keep finding more mistakes when I was previewing this *sighs*. Oh, well.
> 
> Spoilers (ish):
> 
> ~~Expect Hannibal to show more of his romantic side towards Will in the next chapter. I am a passionate supporter that Hannibal being romantic is not OOC. He is definitely a romantic man, just not in the traditional sense ;) and now that there is no barrier between them anymore, some PDA is expected.~~
> 
> ~~Also, I also believe that Hannibal enjoys humour. Who else makes so much cannibal puns?~~

**Author's Note:**

> I'm loving my story so far and I hope you do, too.
> 
> Constructive comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> If there's something you particularly like or you find anything at all that I can improve in this fanfic, can you write them down in the comments section?


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